


What Not to Do During Thunderstorms

by yorozuyas



Series: 100 Ways to Annoy Your Roommate [3]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Attempt at Humor, Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Male Friendship, Mentions of Death, Mild Language, Roommates, Some Humor, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 18:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15977555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yorozuyas/pseuds/yorozuyas
Summary: Boom.Crack.Boom.Gintoki wakes to the sound of thunder rumbling softly. He stays still, curled up under his blanket and buries his head under his pillow to drown out the noise. He feels fear and panic slowly eating away at him, but he tries his best not to let it bother him.





	What Not to Do During Thunderstorms

_Boom._

_Crack._

_Boom._

Gintoki wakes to the sound of thunder rumbling softly. He stays still, curled up under his blanket and buries his head under his pillow to drown out the noise. He feels fear and panic slowly eating away at him, but he tries his best not to let it bother him.

“It’s okay, it’s going to be alright,” he mumbles to himself, voice trembling ever so softly. He’s trying his best not to rouse his roommate Hijikata, who’s sound asleep, in the bed across from his and so he’s keeping his shaking as minimal as possible.

Yes, Gintoki is indeed renowned in his college for being the Yorozuya and, at some point, even gained the nickname Shiroyasha because he “acted like a demon more than a goody two shoes,” as Takasugi had once told him when the nickname had started spreading around. He takes great pride in those two names; but however vicious, “demon-like”, perverted, and a complete asshole he may be, Gintoki is deathly terrified of thunderstorms, which is utterly ridiculous, considering the fatality rate of being struck by lightning in Japan is roughly one in a million. And that fact is the one thing he’d never let anyone know, _especially_ Hijikata, because he’d probably tease him for it, which would be another annoying reason why he’d want to kill him.

But getting struck by lightning wasn’t the real reason why Gintoki was deathly afraid of them. It was because thunderstorms reminded him of when he lost Shouyou, the one and only father figure in his life. Scratch that, the _only_ family member he’d ever known and loved. There had been a thunderstorm when Shouyou had gone on into the next life. He’d died of a terminal illness when Gintoki was younger and since then, he’d been deathly scared of thunder. It reminded him of the pain and what it was like to lose the one person you cared about the most; painful, vague and dark memories of time stopping, wishing he could bring him back, sleepless nights due to crying, loss of appetite and loneliness. For awhile, Gintoki was not able to talk to anyone properly without his throat clogging up and tears immediately pooling in his eyes. And so, without fail, thunderstorms would always launch him into panic attacks and uncontrollable crying.

It hasn’t been like that in a long time though. And Gintoki honestly thought his irrational fear of thunders disappeared as the years rapidly passed by, but alas, he was wrong. It’s like he’s twelve years old again, hiding under the table and crying, hoping that the deafening sounds of thunder and lightning would stop.

“Shit,” he whispers softly. He’s not safe on the bed. He needs to go somewhere else, preferably a closed space, so he could properly curl into a ball without bothering Hijikata (who, by the way, is still snoring like a pig). Despite all his trembling and heavy breathing, he manages to pull himself up, get off the bed, and spill onto the carpeted floor. For awhile, he doesn’t move, just rests his forehead against the floor, which feels warm against his ice cold skin.

_Crack._

_Boom._

The persistent crackling of the skies immediately spurs a loud yelp from Gintoki, who clamps a hand over his mouth, hoping the sleeping boy didn’t hear it. He weakly crawls away from his bed and towards somewhere else, but between his trying to navigate his way through the dark and his trembling body, tear-stricken face and the onset of his panic attack, it really didn’t do much.

For some reason, he finds himself near Hijikata’s bed. Gintoki’s too weak to move, so he stays rooted there, back against the bed, head tucked in his knees.

“Goddammit,” he says, trying to endure the pain in his chest. He’s crying softly now, not caring whether or not the other boy heard him anymore. His throat hurts, it feels like someone is forcibly scrubbing it raw with sandpaper. Gintoki breaks into cold sweat and his t-shirt is drenched in it. “H-Help…” he utters to no one. Asking for help is one of the many things he used to do when he was younger and much more vulnerable. As he grew older, he became embarrassed to do trivial things such as getting help from someone (although he would not hesitate to help others in need).

“Oi, oi, shut up, will you?” Hijikata growls sleepily, disgruntled. “Someone’s tryin’ to sleep here.”

Gintoki says nothing; he’s too engrossed in the fear gnawing in his abdomen.

“Oi, oi, is this another cruel prank of yours? Because I _swear_ I am not in the fucking mood for this, it’s the middle of the night, for fuck’s sake,” Hijikata sits up, rubbing his sleepiness away.

Again, Gintoki says nothing: the only sounds that come out of his mouth are his labored breathing.

“Gintoki?” he says, suddenly alarmed. Hijikata’s sleepiness immediately disappears the moment he hears Gintoki’s slight sniffling, and is abruptly hyper aware of the other boy shaking visibly next to him. “Gintoki, oi, are you okay?”

“I’m...I’m fine,” Gintoki tries to say with much conviction, but his own voice fails him. _Shit._

“I don’t believe you,” Hijikata replies sharply, throwing off his covers. He leaves his bed and kneels in front of Gintoki, whose face is hidden and tucked away in his knees. His body is wracked with sweat.

Hijikata looks at Gintoki’s miserable state and chews on his lip. What could have happened to him to put him in this state? A nightmare, perhaps? He couldn’t help but pity him. Because Gintoki, in the year and a half he’s known him, has never once looked as vulnerable as he does now. It’s making him feel as though he has an obligation to protect the other boy from his inner demons. On any other given day, Hijikata would smack himself upside in the head if he’d done so much as shown concern for Gintoki, but he isn’t so heartless that he’d leave him be. Obviously, something _is_ bothering Gintoki, he just couldn’t bring himself to say why.

_Boom._

_Crack._

Gintoki lets out a frightened yelp at the sound of the thunder and grabs hold onto Hijikata, who falls against him. Gintoki, tightly gripping his shirt, buries his face in Hijikata’s chest. Jesus, he must be _so_ flushed right now. He’s worried Gintoki might hear the loud pounding of his heart, but he didn’t think he’s in the right state of mind for it to matter anyway.

Hijikata, who didn’t mind that Gintoki’s latching onto him for dear life, gently gives him a pat on the head, which is also slick with sweat. “You’ll be alright,” he whispers softly, hoping that he’ll get through to him.

It’s quiet for awhile, with neither boy speaking, save for Gintoki’s occasional sobs. Hijikata ends up in quite an awkward predicament, where he’s oddly comforting his roommate — a situation he never once thought he would find himself in.

The low rumbles of the skies have almost halted to a stop. Moonlight shines through the crack between the curtains, illuminating Gintoki’s pale and vulnerable face. Hijikata pulls back and stares at Gintoki’s now relaxed expression.

 _“His eyelashes are pretty long,”_ Hijikata thinks to himself, drinking in his delicate features. He’s never realized how pretty Gintoki is — he supposed it’s partly because he’s never properly gotten the chance to, what with all their endless bickering and (sometimes) physical fighting.

Ever so slowly, Hijikata traces his index finger along Gintoki’s sharp jawline. To his surprise, his skin is soft, with faint freckles dotted across his cheeks. He’s also sporting very, very light circles beneath his eyes. And wow, the shape of Gintoki’s mouth is — he shakes his head before he continues the thought. No, that’s absolutely _disgusting_. Hijikata clucks his tongue in annoyance, ignoring the way his chest flares up.

Gintoki slowly opens his eyes and blinks. Once. Twice. Thrice, as if he couldn’t believe that Hijikata is currently holding him in his arms. But despite this, he couldn’t find a sarcastic remark to say to him.

“Oi, are you alright now?” Hijikata says after a while, breaking the awkward tension from both of them. “You were freaking out. Scared of a little thunder, are ya?”

At the mention of thunder, Gintoki shoots him a glare and very weakly pushes Hijikata off of him. “I’m not,” the lie rolls off his tongue smoothly. “Er...I had a...severe case of...allergies?”

“ _Allergies,”_ Hijikata says in a high-pitched tone, mocking him. “Sure it was allergies. What the hell were you eating late at night then?”

“A sandwich that had mayonnaise in it.” Hijikata smacks him. “What! That shit’s disgusting, you gotta admit.”

“What the fuck did mayonnaise ever do to you!”

“Exist.” Hijikata hits him again, earning a weak laugh from the other boy. Good. Gintoki’s laughing. That means he’s somehow resorted to his normal self.

“Okay but…” he starts, at loss for words. He hasn’t the faintest idea on how he could ask Gintoki about his irrational fear of thunders: sometimes they were _just_ irrational, with no meaning behind it. But before he could continue his sentence, Gintoki cuts him off.

“Thanks, jackass,” he mumbles. Gintoki calling him a ‘jackass’ would’ve pissed Hijikata off on any other given day, but something about the way he says it makes his chest tighten. It’s almost as though Gintoki’s _fond_ of the word — of _him_. “I mean it. It’s...pretty embarrassing for someone to see me like that. I’d appreciate it a fuckin’ lot if you keep this between us.”

“Hey, it’s not a problem. You’re a pain in the ass, but seeing you like that was really scary, even for me,” he admits as he rubs the back of his neck. “Do you mind? Telling me what happened, that is.”

“Well. It’s not of any importance,” Gintoki’s obviously trying to dodge the subject, but Hijikata doesn’t say anything about it. “Although if I tell you, I have to warn you, it’s not for the faint-hearted.”

Hijikata rolls his eyes. How overdramatic. “Fine. Then don’t tell me,” he grunts. He doesn’t push the subject any more than that though because he could tell how tense and anxious Gintoki is, afraid that someone might make mock him for it. With those words, Gintoki instantly relaxes and lets out a sigh of relief.

Something about Gintoki’s vulnerability during a thunderstorm makes Hijikata’s chest churn, like he couldn’t handle seeing him act like that again. For some reason, it hurt witnessing Gintoki’s weakest state, and he feels like he’s accidentally made his way into a realm of darkness that he shouldn’t be in.

“Listen,” he starts, looking at Gintoki solemnly. “I-If you’re ever in a situation like that again, don’t hesitate to call me, text me, or wake me. I-I’ll be glad to help and s-s-stay with you.” That last bit was hard to say. His face heats up, suddenly embarrassed at his choice of words. _Shit._

“I-I-I mean! You don’t have to!” Hijikata stutters, “J-J-Just i-i-i-if you w-want to!” He turns away from the other boy to hide his reddened face.

Gintoki merely chuckles and holds Hijikata’s face in his hands. He looks at him — _really looks at him_ — and gives him the softest smile that makes his heart flutter. Then, faster than lightning, there’s a wet sensation on his cheek, and he’s suddenly hyper aware of Gintoki’s lips pressed against his skin, and his whole body _thrummed_.

“Take that as my thank-you gift,” Gintoki whispers, and smirks haughtily at him, proud that he’s made a complete mess of his oh-so-mighty roommate.

Hijikata wants to wipe that smug look off Gintoki's face and so he smacks him again, but is unable to hide the ridiculous smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> okay in celebration of gintama NOT actually ending and just moving to another magazine (giga jump) to continue serialization, i've decided to post this! this lil prompt has been in the back of my head for literal years and finally putting it in words feels SO GOOD LIKE YALL I CANT EVEN DESCRIBE HOW ECSTATIC I FEEL!!!!!! and here's a plus: i literally wrote this in one day (today) fljsdhfklasdjl listen motivation comes a looooooong way so i'm proud to have ejected this from my brain kekeke anyways idk when the next time i'll post something will be, probably in a few weeks, maybe months, heck, maybe even in like 2 years lololol SOOOOOOOO i hope you guys enjoyed! 
> 
> LOVE AND PEACE, MWAH


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